No Angel
by Coco1
Summary: What would happen if Rory suffered the same fate as her mother? Kinda AU


Title: No Angel   
Author: Coco  
Disclaimer: Me not own.  
Classification: Rory/Tristan, baby, yeah!  
Rating: I'd say maybe heavy PG - 13 to mild R for content and languagehard to tell at the moment.  
Summary: What would happen if Rory suffered the same fate as her mother? Kinda AU  
Spoilers: General Spoilers for all of season one, changed the kiss scene just a teeny bit, 'cuz it fit into my evil fic plans.   
Distribution: Anyone who wants it. Give me credit, and it's all yours. If you plan on telling me about it, great, if not, it's no biggie.  
Feedback: Lorelai may be a coffee junkie, and by that standard, I am a feedback junkie. Gimme. No substituions, exceptions, or refunds:)  
Author's Notes: My little Trory heart wept after last night's episode, so I decided to write something to patch up my poor hurt feelings.   
`A Warning: It's a bit dark in some parts. Sorry 'bout that. I've been working it through my head for the last couple of days, so I think it came out all right.   
Lyrics and title truely belong to Dido. I'm only borrowing 'em. I took out parts of it 'cuz they didn't suit my purpose. Hope nobody minds:)  
Oh, also, I may not have portrayed NYC accurately, since I don't live there, but I'll try my hardest. Okie doke?

__

I'm sorry for my weary life  
I know I'm not perfect, but I can smile  
And I hope you see this heart behind my tired eyes

If you tell me that I can't, I will, I will, I'll try all night  
And if I say I'm coming home, I'll probably be out all night

I know I can be afraid, but I'm alive  
And I hope that you see this heart behind my tired eyes

I'm no angel, but please don't think that I won't try and try  
I'm no angel, but does that mean that I can't live my life?  
I'm no angel, but please don't think that I can't cry  
I'm no angel, but does that mean that I won't fly?

I'm no angel, but please don't think that I can't cry  
I'm no angel, but does that mean that I won't fly?

-Exerpts from Dido's song "No Angel"

She was caught. Caught up in the gleam of the flashing stage lights, the smell of the sweat pouring off the ten bodies of the dancers, her self included. They all twirled and moved in a way to make any one person extremely dizzy, yet she felt no need to sit down.  
She smiled seductivly at the men when they leered up at her, watching in awe as she danced seemingly bonelessly on the stage. She tossed her once light bown hair over her shoulders. It was now dyed a platinum blond. She leaned over far enough so they could see her bulging cleavage. Usually, she would have slapped anyone who had tried to so much as glance in the direction of her chest. However, desperate times call for desperate measures, and she was a desperate woman. She needed the money badly, and not only for herself.  
Power. In her position, dancing on that stage, there was a feeling of absolute power. You had the control. Control over all the men watching you dancing, you had them wrapped around your little finger. You had their entire attention, not to mention their money. What more could a girl ask for?  
Much more, a little voice whispered in the back of her head. She shook it off. She couldn't even go there again. She had gone, left it behind, there was no more to say. She had left one world, and entered another. The other was behind her, totally and completely.   
The music ended, and they walked off the stage, swaying their hips and winking at random men. As the reached the back room though, the ten women transformed. They were no longer sexy and energetic, but sweaty and exahausted. Most slumped down in the chairs, taking pound after pound of padding out of their bras, counting out their tips for the evening.  
She gathered up her tips, and stuffed them in her jacket poket, intending on counting them later. Much, much later. Right now she was going back to her appartment and taking a long relaxing bath.  
She shuffled carefully along the dark, but busy streets, making sure not to give anyone the wrong impression. You could never be too careful in New York City. She walked down the stairway that led to the subway, the listening to the metal's audible clanking as her boot-clad feet hit the steps.  
Usually, the subway station was teaming with people, like a mini airport. However, this late at night grand central station was a little more vacant. Most sensible people had gone home, and were sleeping in their warm beds, or watching the late night movie.  
She bought a ticket, gave it to the ticket man, took the stub, found the subway train, got on. She was so exhausted that she was acting on autopilot. She knew the subway system through and through, although she hadn't been there for very long, only about a month. She supposed, sometimes, that she could always take a taxi, but always ended up thinking 'Why bother?' They costed too much and it took too long to find one.  
She found a seat with out too much trouble, and sat down. Reaching into her hand bag, she felt around for a moment, and then retrieved a rather thick book with the title Moby Dick on the cover. She smiled, content, settling back in her seat, opening the book to where the bookmark marked her page. What better book to have with her on the long subway trip home than her first and very favorite Melville?  
******  
One month earlier  
Tristan Dugray sat down in class on Monday morning, dreading it as usual. Ever sincewell, Rory had been avoiding him, let's just say, and it had not been pleasant. Before she would at least argue with him, she would react to him. Nownow, she was like a stone wall. Nothing passed her. Nothing got to her. She wouldn't talk to him, or even look at him. It was pure torture, hell on earth.  
He remembered a quote from somewhere"The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference." Oh, how he wished she could at least hate him againfeel something when he teased her, called her Mary.  
But Rory wasn't there. When their homeroom teacher called roll, she was absent. She didn't show up in any of the other classes that he had with her either. A week passed by. He shook it off, thinking that she must be sick or something, but ther was a sinking feeling in his stomach.   
Then three more weeks passed by and Rory still hadn't returned. The teachers didn't bother to call her name duriong roll anymore. He was shocked to even find that her name had been removed from the class list. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.  
It was a Saturday day afternoon when he drove to the little town outside Hatford called Stars Hollow. He searched it, street by street untill he found the one he was looking for. Then he droved slowly down til he found the correct house number. He stopped the car, parked it, and shakily got out of the driver's seat.  
He walked up the driveway and rang the doorbell, half expecting Rory to answer the door and say, "What the hell are you doing here?" She didn't.  
Instead, a woman who couldn't possibly have been older than her early thirties opened the door, her eyes sad. "Hello," she greeted wearily.  
"Hello, is Rory there?"  
The woman's eyes teared up, but he only had a moment to think about this before a man he hadn't noticed before pushed him roughly up against the wall. "Rory? Do you know where she is? Tell me!" He shook Tristan's shoulders none too gently to emphisize the last point.  
"I, noum, I came to see why she hasn't been in school latelybecause, well" he trailed off.  
The look in the older man's eyes softened, but he still stared at Tristan, this time seemingly sizing him up. Seeing if he was good enough for Rory, Tristan assumed.  
"Luke" the woman gently grasped his shoulder, pulling him away from Tristan. Then she turned to Tristan, her sad eyes focusing on his own. "I'm sorrywhat did you say your name was again?"  
He hadn't, told her his name that was, but he spoke it softly anyway. "Tristan DuGrey."  
"OK," she swallowed, and he could see this was hard for her, and wondered not for the first time exactly what was wrong.  
Suddenly her eyes looked cold and hard, and they stared into his, determined to get through with this. "I'm sorry Mr. DuGrey, but Rory ran away without a word about a month ago. Good day." And with that she shut the door in Tristan's shell-shocked face.  
TBC  



End file.
